


Open Window

by taylocrow



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Angst, High School, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:47:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9446069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylocrow/pseuds/taylocrow
Summary: Jon would do anything for Sansa if it meant she was giving him the time of day.-------Jon is her safe haven, her go to, and confidant. He'll always be there for her anyway he can be, even if he wishes it were more.





	

# Open Window

* * *

 

 

It’s close to 3 AM when he hears the familiar rustle of the giant ash tree outside his bedroom window, followed by the creaking of the gutter as quiet footsteps patter across the roof. Frozen February had filled the room over an hour ago when her text had read, “Open your window. I’m coming over.”

 

Now Jon lay under his comforters in layers of sweatshirts and socks after cracking his window for the beautiful girl just out of reach. Clouds of his hot breath float from his chattering lips as he tries to guess where she’s coming from. Ever since this past summer he spent pretty much every night doing the same thing.

 

After his parents died, Jon fell into the Stark’s lap about 8 years ago, 9 years this coming May. After outgrowing the room he had shared with Robb, Ned had suggested he take the empty space next to the house. At first he tried to refuse, but Ned insisted that he'd thank him later. The Stark house was rarely quiet, and much like Ned, Jon needed his alone time. So now the pool house now had various movie and band posters splattered on its walls. There was an old TV Jon bought from a yard sale and with his HDMI cord plugged into his laptop, he could watch all the movies he wanted. And every night when watched whatever show he wanted or read in the quiet of his room, he silently thanked Ned.

 

If there was one thing to complain about: it was the heating and AC. Jon was always either freezing or melting, never an in between. Fans kept him up and the fear of setting the place on fire from an unsupervised heater kept Jon either sleeping naked or in four layers, depending on the season. Summers were brutal since he resided on the second floor of the pool house, and dammit if heat doesn’t rise. The first floor was the actual equipment area and had a bizarre giant room with a shower. But his bedroom had more than enough space for him, with khaki shag carpeting, and a microwave over on a random counter corner. The Starks hadn’t updated the pool house when they redid their home about 5 years ago.

 

Jon didn’t mind, it could be a lot worse. He could’ve grown up in foster care rather than being raised by his parent’s best friend’s family. How different life would be if Robb Stark had not sat next to him in Kindergarten. His parents and Robb’s would’ve never become like siblings, and he would’ve been inevitably turned over to the system after his Dad hydroplaned and crashed over a guardrail.

 

But then again, he wouldn’t be in the predicament he was right now.

 

“Oof!” Sansa fell through his window with a thud. This girl sure knew how to make an entrance. Jon tried to think of something to make her laugh, but the overwhelming stench of alcohol mixed with her silence made him hop up like his ass caught fire. “Sansa!” His voice strained to be quiet, even though there was no one to really hear them.

 

A giggle gurgled in her throat and she rolled herself over, one leg still sitting on the windowsill as her laugh broke a sound barrier. “Shh!” Jon couldn’t help but smile a little, but God, if she wasn’t just begging for someone to hear her busting in. The Starks had these security cameras they randomly turned on every now and again, not that they really cared when their kids snuck out, just to make sure no one was breaking in every couple of days. It was silly and stupid but Jon was constantly paranoid that one of these days someone would catch Sansa crawling into his window and start asking questions he didn’t know the answers to.

 

Sansa looked up at him wistfully and bit her lip, “Are you going to help me up or are you coming down here?”

 

Jon shifted from frozen foot to frozen foot. “Well?” Sansa was a pushy drunk, especially when it came to bossing him around.

 

His bed suddenly felt very far away, so Jon silently sat down beside her sprawled out frame and pulled her leg in from the window. Choked laughter erupted the quiet that had fallen between them and Jon snickered as he shut his bedroom window.

 

He wasn’t quite sure why she always wanted to come through the window when he had a perfectly fully functioning door that he used every day. The only conclusion he could draw was that Sansa was a complete and total romantic. And even though they both knew this was headed nowhere, she still liked the mystery of it. Jon just _knew_ that she got off on keeping him guessing. Relished in moments she caught him watching her get picked up by random guys for dates to who knows where. Or maybe they weren’t dates at all, but in the end it wasn’t any of his business.

 

“Where were you?” Jon looks down at her rosy cheeks, chapped from the wind and cold of bitter winter in the North. Winterfell was unforgiving once the sun began to set. She twirled her long, long hair and scrunched her nose. “Here and there.” She stuck her tongue out a bit and then flashed him a playful smile.

 

Jon scoffed and pulled off a sweatshirt he was wearing. Sansa was in a velvet dress that left little to the imagination, and heels that made her legs look that much longer. “Aren’t you cold, crazy girl?”

 

“I came here so you’d warm me up.” Sansa shoved at his arm holding the sweatshirt out to her and Jon released a shaky breath.

 

Nerves threatened to eat him alive when he watched the way she watched him, like she already knew every thought racing through his mind.

 

Her eyes were round and soft and the perfect shade of blue. A sadness lodged in his throat as he watched her smile fall. He wondered what Sansa did with those boys who made her mix CDs and took her dancing. Maybe they put their hands where Jon hadn’t, maybe she came here to be warm because she knew Jon would let her sleep in his bed and wouldn’t complain about sleeping on the floor.

 

It was his senior year and he wasn’t stupid, he heard the way the guys talked about Sansa, and the ones who looked at her as she passed in the hallways. Jon was a minnow in the pond of Sansa’s social life. He was convenient, yet forbidden, and a fun secret but at the end of the day, irrelevant, small, and forgettable.

 

This all started a couple months ago when she drunkenly crawled in here for the first time, tears streaming down her face. Margaery Tyrell had spread an awful rumor about her sucking every baseball players dick all in one night, and that she had gotten chlamydia  and passed it to each of them. Jon had heard about it at lunch that day, but decided to just ignore it until Robb was ready to kick ass. Apparently, the truth was Sansa and Margaery had hooked up with several baseball players, not in one night, but over time. They seemed to favor Sansa, and in a jealous rage Margaery stabbed her in the back. Sansa’s slut label was likely to last the entirety of high school, and she had to face it without her best friend. Not only that, but her best friend was the one to do it to her.

 

It was hard to forget the way she clung to him after that night. The one that made her so sad and so wild. Now Sansa had something to forget, and nothing to lose, so she drank to drown out the memories that pained her so. He wished she didn't feel the need to be well liked, that she wasn't so impressionable, and didn't care what anybody said about her. But it's hard not to when the entire school thinks all you're good for is a lay. But now Jon knew for a fact that she was virgin and planned to keep it that way for as long as she wanted to.

 

And why she chose Jon to confide in, he’d never know. He’d never ask either.

 

Jon ran his fingers through her bright, silky hair and watched her smile once more, “Kiss me, Jon.”

 

“You’re drunk.” Jon teased her and shook his head. It never felt right when she tasted like her favorite peach schnapps.

 

“I’m drunk and I want you to kiss me.” Sansa moved her head so it’d rest in his lap and puckered her lips in a cartoonish manner. Jon placed a sweet chaste kiss to them, and ran a hand down her face. Sansa’s pale skin was tinged blue, and her teeth chattered when she tried to open her mouth.

 

“Sweatshirt?” Jon grabbed the discarded clothing and she nodded eagerly. With ease, he slid it over her head and pulled her arms through. It was graceful and easy because this happened about every weekend since the school year started.

 

“You’re so good to me.” Sansa reached up and placed a chilled hand to his stubbly cheek. He had just started to be able to grow a somewhat decent beard, which he tried to wear proudly. But Winterfell Academy and Catelyn Stark would never allow full on facial hair on a schoolboy.

 

“You deserve the best.” Jon looked into her glossy eyes and watched her roll them. Suddenly, her head had left his lap and he immediately missed the heat. Sansa sat with her legs crisscrossed across from him and began to yank a shoe off. “Help, please,” She motioned to the other heeled boot.

 

Jon wordlessly tugged it off of her foot, and Sansa wiggled her toes once free. “Did you kiss Val last weekend at Theon’s party?”

 

“Val?” In all their months of...this Sansa had never, ever broached the subject of girls. Not even when he fucked Ros for a while and she told the entire school that he ate pussy like he got paid. Which wasn’t the worst thing to be talked about for.

 

“Yeah. I heard about it in gym class Friday and it’s bothered me.” Sansa shrugged and pulled at the imaginary knots in her smooth hair.

 

Val had huge tits that popped out of her school uniform oxford shirt and Jon had kissed her at a party on a dare when they were freshman. But that seemed like a lifetime ago. It had been awkward and forced, Val even giggled when he accidentally bit her lip and he’s been pretty mortified to ever talk to her again after that.

 

Val was around, Winterfell Academy was small, but the only time Jon really ever was in contact with her was at sports games or if she came to Theon’s parties that Robb dragged him to.

 

Jon shook his head and ran a hand down her chilled face again, just to do it, and answered her quietly, “No. I kissed Val when we were 14 on a dare. But I haven’t kissed anyone.”

 

“Is it okay if I wouldn’t like it if you kissed her?” Sansa’s eyes had been searching around the room, but now got serious as they eyed him down.

 

For a moment he weighed his answer. Because no, it wasn’t okay, because Jon didn’t get mad when she held hands with Harry Hardyng in the hallways. Or cheered on Loras Tyrell at the football games. He kept it to himself and waited for her to crawl through his window.

 

But this was Sansa and it wasn’t like he was kissing anyone else anyways.

 

Jon licked his lips and thought back to the first time he grew a pair and kissed her. It was a couple weeks into her sneak ins, mid June, and they went night swimming right outside in their pool. Together, they silently floated and watched the sparkling stars above them. A lot of the time that was all they did and still do, is just sit together in silence. Jon would be anything to Sansa if it meant she was giving him the time of day.

 

Sansa dunked him and laughed and laughed and laughed until she snorted, then she laughed some more. Just to shut her up, he pulled her in and kissed her pouty lips.

 

“Is that ok?” He asked and a slow, devious grin spread across her face and she pulled him in to kiss him deeper, longer.

 

And from that night on, it was one big guessing game. Who would talk first, would they kiss, would they watch TV, would she sleep in his bed? Jon never knew what to expect when she crawled through his window but he loved it anyhow.

 

“Answer.” Keeping Sansa waiting was never a good idea, so Jon shrugged his shoulders, “I guess so.”

 

Sansa scrunched her face up and let it soften, then scrunched it up again, “I just don’t want anyone breaking your heart.”

 

He fought the urge to laugh and just sucked in a sharp breath, letting his shoulders fall a bit, “I’ll be okay.”

 

Usually her face would give her away, you could really read Sansa like a book, every emotion splayed across her gentle features. But at this moment she just looked tired, “Val kissed Joffrey.”

 

Joffrey Baratheon. Jon fought the urge to roll his eyes and decided to just nod his head in acknowledgement of the incredibly predictable news. Joffrey was a complete and utter ass that drove a blue mustang. The same mustang that would pick Sansa up every once in a while.

 

“Is Joffrey your boyfriend?” Jon didn’t try to hide the bitterness in his voice.

 

“No!” Sansa slammed her fist down to his shag carpet, “No! He’s a dick and a liar and I hate him.”

 

“Have you kissed Joffrey?” Jon usually didn't ask these questions either, but Sansa didn’t seem to mind. This time her face shifted into a more thoughtful expression, “A few times at parties that he takes me to. He likes to shove his hands up my skirt but I never let him. I’ve let him feel my boobs a couple times.”

 

Jon winced.

 

 _He’d had his hands up her skirt before_.

 

“I only let you do that.” Sansa smirked before rising to her feet.

 

Jon looked up at her and tried to decide if he was angry or not, and decided that no, he wasn’t angry. Jon could never be angry with the lost girl with sad eyes who just liked to watch The Office and listen to Jon’s music. Never once had they talked about the way they felt about each other or if she cared that he’d be leaving for college after this summer. Somehow he was scared that if they did it would all end.

 

And when she laid her head on the pillow beside him and curled up to his side, Jon knew it didn’t matter if she kissed Joffrey or anybody else. All that mattered was that she had him to come to, and for as long as she needed, he could be that for her.

 

Moments after crawling into bed and getting as comfortable as they could in the icebox bedroom, her soft drunken snores permeated the air. Jon placed a rough, desperate kiss on top of her head and thought about driving away with her in his very own blue mustang, but she’d let him put his hands up her skirt any time he wanted, and she’d kiss him and him alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Um, yeah... tell me what you think! (As of right now I plan on just keeping this a one shot)


End file.
